The Nature of Stars
by horse-crazy girl13
Summary: "The fact is, life sucks. It's not really so hard to get used to. I mean, why boohoo over it and waste what little of your sucky life that you have? So, I suppose that's why I don't even blink an eye when the doctor tells me I have cancer. Guess I can't complain, though. If I hadn't gotten it, I wouldn't have met and fallen in love with... Percy Jackson." Percabeth.
1. Verdict

**So the idea for this little depressing one-shot came to me as I was reading 'The Fault In Our Stars' by John Green. It has just become one of my favorite books. Ever. If you haven't read it, you absolutely need to. But just a warning, the book isn't meant for anyone under 13. I hope you like this! By the way, this is going to be a pretty heavy story so don't expect rainbows and marshmallows.**

**Happy (or I guess sad?) Reading!**

* * *

_"When it's all said and done, all roads lead to the same end. So it's not so much which road you take, but HOW you take it." ~Unknown_

* * *

The fact is, life sucks. It's not really so hard to get used to. I mean, why boo hoo over it and waste what little of your sucky life that you have?

So I suppose that's why I don't even blink an eye when the doctor tells me I have cancer. In my opinion, it's just my life going from sucky to shitty. It could be worse, I guess. I could be dead. Not that I really have to wait very long for _that _to happen. Only a year, if I'm lucky. Which I won't be, because life just sucks like that.

I watch around me as my mom, Athena, cries and falls into my father's arms. The doctor just looks on with a grave expression and offers his condolences and gives me a bunch of crap, saying that I have a whopping twenty percent chance of living. Then, he starts talking about chemotherapy and radiation options and whatnot.

The truth? I don't really listen. It's not that I don't care that I am dying; I do. But no amount of sugar can coat the fact that there's no way I will survive this. I'm too far in. And I'm not being a pessimist; I am being a realist. And right now, this realist would like to go home and live what small amount of her sucky life she has left.

After he finishes speaking, a tense silence takes over the room. I'm the one who breaks it.

"So, are we done now? Like, can I go home?" I ask. They all just stare at me for a second.

Then, my mom starts crying again, my dad comforts her, and my doctor offers his condolences again. I sigh. _If this is what the rest of my shitty life is going to be like, go ahead and speed up the process of dying if you can, _I think sarcastically to myself. But I think a part of me knows that I'm just trying to avoid the inevitable. I am scared. But I can't be.

After yet another tense silence fills the room, I hesitantly say, "_Now _can we go home?" Go ahead, call me an insensitive brat, but _I'm _the one with cancer.

My dad tries to glare at me in irritation, but it crumbles as he clearly thinks, _Well, she's about to die. I suppose it would be rude to glare. _Thanks, Dad. Anyway, he glances over at the doctor.

"Is there anything else you need? More tests you need her to take?" my dad asks. Because who doesn't love being poked and prodded with a needle? Again, thanks Dad. But Dr. Solace just shakes his head.

"Not today. We'll just need you to be back in tomorrow, so we can do some more tests and scans then. Meanwhile, you should think about how you would like to proceed from here. Chemo and radiation have different effects on people, so that's something you should also consider. You guys should talk through this thoroughly, and you can tell me what you think tomorrow," he says gently.

"Fat chance," I mutter quietly to myself. Having a heart to heart with my parents is definitely not something on my list of things to do before I die. Luckily, no one hears me.

I lead the way out to the van, all too happy to get out of the depressing place. I mean, seriousy, people, have a little personality. If I ran the place, I'd have neon walls and music. This hospital just has plain gray walls and a grave silence. It almost makes me want to start singing or something, and Annabeth Chase. Does. Not. Sing.

I refuse to look around me. I refuse to see the heavy look of sorrow on peoples' faces as they find out that they or a loved one is dying. And I refuse to acknowledge that I, myself, am one of those people.

Behind me, my dad, Fredrick, guides my mom carefully to the car. She seems to be in some sort of daze. For a second, I contemplate turning around and signing my mom in to the hospital. No doubt she's in a state of shock. Dad mutters encouraging words to her softly, but I don't think she hears them. They catch up to me, and I hear my mom moaning to herself.

"My daughter, no, don't take my daughter!" She says it over and over again. Each word, each syllable seems to slice viciously at my heart, despite my efforts to build a wall around it. For a brief moment, I feel my resolve to act like everything is alright fade. Instead, I want to wrap my arms around my mother and cry with her and tell her everything will be okay. But, deep in my heart, I know that not everything will be okay, and that is what makes me emotionless, a machine invisibly trying to hold its parts together.

On the way home, I ride in the back of the car, while my parents ride up front, my father's hand resting comfortingly on my mom's thigh as he drives us home. I try not to wonder how many days left I have in my home. My phone vibrates annoyingly, and I take it out of my pocket.

_Well?, _it reads. It's from one of my best friends, Piper. She doesn't have to say it; I know that she is asking what the results were.

I ignore it at first, not wanting - not willing - to give her the bad news. I don't want to hurt her. I don't want to hurt anyone. And curse this shitty life for making me do so. Then, she texts me again, this one more demanding.

_Annabeth, what were ur results?! _She knows that I have my phone. And she also knows me well enough to know that I am avoiding the question.

For a second, I wonder if I should just toss my phone out the window, but then I figure, hey, if I only have a year left to live, I at least want to live some of it with my phone.

_Positive, _is my one-word answer. And then I turn off my phone. I know I should probably talk to her some more, and maybe I should tell my other best friend, Thalia, but I continue pushing off the inevitable.

Now, we are almost home. It's weird to think that I won't even be able to sit at the dinner table anymore, without things being different. No doubt my brother, Malcolm, will help me lighten the mood.

Oh, shit. _Malcolm. _What the heck am I going to say to him? He's been away at Harvard, but he calls every night, and I know it's because he's been worried about me. He'll be coming home tomorrow. Immediately, I make my decision to wait until tomorrow, rather than going through this tonight. Just yet another thing that I'm putting off.

It dawns on me, suddenly, that I am being quite selfish, but I try to push the thoughts away. I'd rather not think at all right now.

As we pull up to the house, I see a slim figure standing on our porch, waiting for us to get home. Stalker. I sigh, immediately knowing who it is. I quickly jump out of the car, ignoring my mom, who is still sniffling.

"Annabeth!" my friend cries, enveloping me into a hug. Instead of pulling away, as I usually do, I lean into the hug, surprising both her and myself. I'm not really a touchy-feely person, but today is my exception. And I also know that she needs the comfort just as much as I do, if not more.

"Piper, what are you doing here?" She still hasn't pulled away.

"Oh, I just had to see you! I mean, I know this must be super hard for you, and I thought it would be nice for you to have a friend, and I wanted to let you know that we are all here for you whenever you need us, and we love you and - " She's rambling. And Piper McLean doesn't ramble.

"Whoa, Pipes," I say, pulling back. "I am totally fine! Believe me. But thank you so much for coming; it means a lot to me."

She settles a disbelieving stare on me.

"What?" I ask her.

"You're weird," she states. I roll my eyes.

"You seriously _just _figured that out?" I joke. She narrows her eyes at me, a serious look on her face.

"It's not that, Annabeth. You know exactly what I mean. Most people - all people - should and would be rattled by being told you have cancer. But you - you're acting like nothing has happened; you're acting like nothing has changed. It worries me."

I sigh. I should have known Piper wouldn't hold back on this conversation. I turn my head away for a second, and look at my surroundings. Dad has led Mom inside, and the little kids across the street are out climbing trees and acting like idiots, while the mailman drives along the street. It's almost unnerving to think that the mailman will still be taking his daily route everyday, and the kids will still be playing, even when I am no longer here. I try to push the thought aside.

"Listen, Piper, you don't need to worry about me. I'm fine - at least, I will be. I guess it just hasn't really sunk it yet," I say, trying my best to reassure her, but failing epically. I can see in her eyes that she can see past the facade. I start to feel a little desperate.

"No, I'm serious. Yes, I'm sick. But it's nothing I can't deal with. So what about what other people would do? I'm not 'other people'. I'm not going to stop living my life just because I'm about to die anyway. That's like saying that you should kill yourself because you're going to die anyway. Just please don't tell anyone about me yet, okay? I don't want to be treated differently. Nothing is going to change."

"But, Annabeth," she says, her voice faltering, "_everything _is going to change. You won't be here anymore." Her lower lip quivers.

I lean forward and give her another hug.

"Everything in life is going to change at some point, Pipes. It's just something that you have to accept." Then it hits me that that is sort of a hypocritical statement, seeing as I just said that nothing is going to change.

"But maybe I'm not ready for change yet. I just want - need - things to be normal for once in my life," she responds. And I know that she's thinking about how her mom died a year ago, and how her dad is never around for her.

"Hey, don't stay all emotional on me, now," I tease in an effort to lighten the mood. "Whether you're ready for me to go or not, I'm not going anywhere for now. I've still got a life to live, and I plan on living it."

She offers me another wobbly smile. "Then I have every intention of helping you live it."

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**Okay, so this was originally going to be a one-shot, but now I'm going to change it into a 3-shot, because this was getting super long, and in my experience, if I don't put Percy in quick enough, people will kill me. I was thinking you'd get bored after reading 6,000 words of no Percabeth. :/ What has this world come to? Anywho, this took me FOREVER, since I deleted, like, half of it, and I'm on vacation out of state. Do you know how hard it is to concentrate in Starbucks?! I don't even buy anything from Starbucks! But, yeah, Percy may come in the next chapter, which should be posted sometime tomorrow! :) The title will make much more since later on in the story. Pretty please with EXTRA pistachios on top REVIEW! (Even if you're a guest!)**

**P.S. I posted a thing on my profile that tells what's going on with all my stories. If you read my other stories, you should probably check it out. Thanks! Love ya!**


	2. Choices

**Hey guys. I'm sorry that I keep breaking my promises as to when I am going to update next. But my life has gone really downhill lately. But thank you so much for the kind reviews; they honestly help me. They keep me going when I get tired of living. Thank you.**

**Happy Reading!**

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_"Sometimes the person who tries to keep others happy is the most lonely person. Never leave them alone, because they will never say they need you." ~Unknown_

* * *

That night, I finally let myself drop the mask. Alone in my bedroom, it's easier to let myself feel the pain without the watching and worrying eyes. My head throbbed painfully throughout the day, but there was no way I was going to admit that.

I read somewhere, once, that it is almost impossible to drown yourself by holding your breath. The human body's natural instinct is to swim to the surface for air. Any human's first instinct is self-preservation. That is why, in the depths of this darkness, it is not so hard for me to admit to myself that I am scared, and that a part of me yearns for a longer life.

More than anything, I want to beat the tumor that has taken over me. But I know in the end, the effort will be useless, so I decide not to try. Instead, I will relax my body, tie my hands and feet together, and allow myself to sink into the depths of the ocean. I will overcome self-preservation. Because if I don't, I'll just end up hurting more people as they get their hopes up, and then watch me die.

* * *

_"At the end of the day, you can either focus on what's tearing you apart, or what's keeping you together." ~Unknown_

* * *

The next day at school, I try not to think of the tumor that's oh so happily tearing my brain apart. It grosses me out when I think about it. I've always been proud of my smart brain, but now I think I'd rather have a different one. I guess they don't really sell extra brains at gift shops.

Instead, I try to focus on my friends. Thalia and Piper are the only two people at school who know about me having cancer, so as long as I don't think about my illness, it's pretty easy to go about my life in a normal way. Teachers and kids look at me, completely oblivious, and it's nice not to get strange looks or see pity in their eyes. But my home life is a completely different story, and it hasn't even been a full twenty-four hours since I found out.

Mom is constantly on the verge of tears, and has already developed a habit of stalking me. When I opened the door to my room this morning, she was laying outside it with a pillow and a blanket. And when I drove to school this morning, I looked through my rearview mirror and caught sight of her car behind mine. Honestly, if I walk out of school today and see her, I may have to call the police and put her on house arrest or something.

Dad was just trying his best to act normal, for my sake. He sat at the dinner table last night and listened attentively while I babbled on and on about completely unimportant stuff, hoping to avoid a conversation about chemo and radiation. It worked. But I didn't miss how he hugged me a little longer and a little tighter that night. I didn't miss the tense, worried look on his face.

When Malcolm called last night, I acted like everything was okay. I think he saw through me, though. He's the only one in my family that can read me and understand me. He comes home today after my appointment, and I still have not figured out what I want to say to him.

Now I sit at Thalia's house with her and Piper. It's a pretty normal occurrence. Nothing we haven't done before. Except this time, I can feel the difference in the air. It's not nearly as carefree as it usually is, but instead, filled with worry and unspoken questions and feelings.

There's only and hour and a half until my appointment with the doctor where I tell him my decision. I read over the packet he gave me with information about the various treatment options, and I also surfed the internet for a while. Dad hasn't talked about any of it with me, and I think he realizes that it's a decision I want to make on my own. But I still haven't made a decision, and even I can't hide my anxiety. Piper notices.

"You wanna tell us what's on your mind?" she asks gently.

"Not really," I mumble. Thalia's lips quirk into a slight smile.

"Well, too bad. Tell us," she commands.

"I have an appointment today," I say reluctantly. Any trace of a smile is wiped off Thalia's face.

"Oh," she says softly. I think she'll just leave it at that, but Piper is too good at reading people, and she senses that I'm not telling them all of it.

"And?" she pries. I sigh. It's no use keeping things from them.

"And I don't know what to do," I say vaguely.

"About which treatment to use?" Thalia asks. I look down.

"No," I say softly. "About whether I should even do one of the cancer treatments at all." Silence meets my statement. Both Thalia and Piper look at me with disbelieving looks on their face.

"But... Annabeth, do you not want to be cured?" I laugh bitterly.

"There is no cure. I did some research, and the most time treatment could buy me is about a year. Most of that year would be spent in a hospital, trying to get more time. It just wouldn't be right. Let's face it; I am going to die either way."

"But - " Piper starts, but I cut her off.

"No, Pipes. There's no use in denying it. But I've thought really hard about this. Have you ever known me to be the one to sit back and lay in bed while I'm sick? This is no different. Except this time, I won't get better. So why not use the most of the time left and spend time with family and friends? You know, have some fun."

Another silence stretched out between us, but it was more thoughtful than upset.

Finally, hesitantly, Thalia speaks. "You're right," she says softly. "You're not one to stay in bed while you're sick, are you? I remember the time in sixth grade where you got pneumonia, and you went to school for two days before anyone finally found out. I _still _don't know how you pulled that off. But I do think that this is your decision, and if you'd rather not take treatment, then I will be there to support you every step of the way."

I feel burning behind my eyes. Tears. What Thalia just said touches me more than words can say. Especially because Thalia Grace _never _gets sentimental. So instead of saying anything, I pull us all into one group hug, and for once, I don't pull away.

* * *

_"Everyone has to make their own decisions. I still believe in that. You just have to be able to accept the consequences without complaining." ~Grace Jones_

* * *

I walk into the office with my parents trailing behind me. No one spoke on the drive here. I haven't even talked to them about my decision, but I know that if I do, they will play the guilt card to get me out of it. And some part of me knows that this is what I have to do. This is for the best - if not for me, then for them. They just don't realize it yet.

Dr. Solace leads us into a small room. It has plain white walls and no personality whatsoever. For some reason, it bothers me. Like, seriously, have a little color. He gestures for us to sit down, and I do so with a determined expression on my face. Mom and Dad look scared, uncertain, and worried. Dr. Solace is expressionless, like everything else in this morbid place.

My phone buzzes, sounding ten times louder than it should.

_We stand behind you - no matter what. 3_

I almost start crying then and there. The message is from Thalia and Piper, of course. I slip my phone into my pocket, more certain than ever, and slightly encouraged. I glance up to see Dr. Solace watching me intently, and for a second, I think I see - wow, could it be? - emotion in his eyes. He gives an almost invisible nod, as if he already _knows _my decision and is saying that he agrees. Creepy much?

"So, Annabeth, I know this must have been hard for you. Have you and your parents come to an agreement as to which treatment you should do?"

I look down at my hands, stalling, and am surprised when I hear my parents speak.

"We have decided that we should do the radiation treatment," my mom says timidly. My head shoots up, and Dr. Solace looks surprised. Now I am certain he knew what my decision would be.

"Um, _we _didn't decide anything," I say rather harshly. Dad gives me a stern look, clearly telling me not to speak in that tone to my mother.

"Well, we thought you would agree with us. We know for a fact that you won't stand for chemotherapy because of how long it would take, the effects, and you would have to be in the hospital for a while."

What the hell?! Are they completely clueless? They don't even want to give me a say in the decision? They just assumed that I would happily go along with whatever they decided?

"Well, you thought wrong," I say rudely. Both of my parents look too taken aback to reprimand me for my tone.

"So you're saying that you'd rather do chemo?" Dad asks.

"No, I did not say that."

"Well, Annabeth, there's no third option. The doctors can't do the surgery on your brain without killing you. It's too dangerous."

"Yes, I know that, Dad. I don't want to do surgery." Jeez, how long will it take him to finally catch on?

"But if you don't want to do chemo or radiation and you can't do surgery then... wait... No, Annabeth, that is _not _an option!" Wow, it took him long enough. I hear Athena stifle a sob, and I know that she's caught on as well.

"Yes, it is. I don't want treatment. I want to live the rest of my life. I don't want to spend it in a bed. You have to accept that I am going to die. I have."

"But, Annabeth! If you take the treatment, we can buy you some time, so can live your life longer!" Dad protests.

"No. Don't you see that doing that is just putting off the inevitable? I will not do treatment, and that is my final answer."

I look over just as Mom starts crying hysterically. I feel bad about how blunt I'm being, but this is what I have to do. Of that I am convinced. I send Dr. Solace something along the lines of a _help me! _look, and he winks at me slightly.

"Mr. and Mrs. Chase, treatment will buy her about a year, with half of that year being in treatment. If she doesn't do treatment, she can live up to six months, which is practically the same as being treated. If it helps, I will prescribe her a couple of medicines to keep her headaches under control, as well as any other pains she may have. Obviously, if things get really bad, we'll send her to the hospital, but we can't do the chemo or radiation without Annabeth's consent."

I smile at Dr. Solace. _Thank you! _the look practically screams.

Seconds pass. Then minutes. I stare at one spot on the floor, not really seeing it. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see my mom and dad share a look, before nodding slowly.

"We understand now that there's no way to protect our baby girl. That's all we want. But if she wants to spend the rest of her life _not _in a bed, then we won't hold her back," Athena says, her voice full of unshed tears. I would be relieved, except I hear a _but... _in her voice.

So I wait, looking at them expectantly, letting them know that I know there's more to it than that. There's no way they would make the decision that quickly if they didn't have something else in mind as well.

"But the only condition is that you must go to Support Group," Athena says cautiously.

"WHAT?! Oh no, I am _not _going to sit around with a bunch of strangers and tell them about my worries and fears and hear their stories about their battles with cancer. Nope. Not interested."

"Either you take treatment and don't go to support group, or you don't take it and you do go. You're choice. Take it or leave it," Dad says in his no-nonsense.

But it hits me that it must be hard for them to see me not take treatment, and they only want me to go to Support Group to help me. They're doing what they can for me. So even though I hate the idea, I slowly nod my head. The no treatment thing was my choice, and I would have to live with the consequences.

"Fine. But I won't like it." I don't want them to think I gave in _too _easily. "When do I start?"

"We'll go sign you up right after this appointment is over. We still need to get you your meds. You can start the group tomorrow."

"Great."

* * *

**That whole ending part sucked, but I had to end it somewhere. So this is definitely not going to be a 3 shot. I originally wanted it to be a long one-shot, but ideas just keep coming to me. Pretty please review! I'm going away to horse camp, so I won't be able to update for a while. I just updated Breaking Free, if you care to check that one out. Also, PLEASE vote on the poll for my profile. Tap that gorgeous review button and tell me what you think! (Even if you're a guest! ;)**


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